Life After Death

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I've been working at The Outpost for almost a year now. I've seen all kinds of people come in and out of those doors. Working the bar, you have your regulars and you have the occasional people that come in just for a drink and to talk. Those are the kinds I like. The ones that come in and actually have a story to tell. Then there are the ones that think that because you pour them a drink that they get to take you home and try relentlessly to get you to leave with them at the end of the night. Never once did the thought cross my mind to do it until he walked in. Tall, leather kutte, beanie and a beard you just want to grab and pull to you. Pure, unadulterated sex on legs. Broad build to match. He walks over to the bar and I walk up to him and ask "What can I get you?" He looks up at me and doesn't say anything for a minute and I can see the pain in his eyes. This man definitely has a story to tell. "Just a beer." he says. I reach in the cooler and get him a beer, popping the top and sitting it in front of him. "Thanks." he says. I just smile, nod and move on to the other patrons at the bar.

Three beers later, he speaks. "What's your name?" I look at him and say

Vivian. Most people call me Viv. You?" I ask. "Opie." he says. "Nice to meet you Opie." I say, holding my hand out to shake. He shakes my hand and says "You too." The bar starts emptying out a little and I have a few minutes in between customers. "Haven't seen you in here before. Passing through?" I ask. "Yeah. Taking some time to clear my head." he says, peeling the label off his bottle. "Making any headway?" I ask. "Not really?" he says. "Wanna talk about it? I hear talking shit out with a stranger helps. You know, someone that's not biased and attached to the situation." I tell him. He looks at me for a minute and says "Club sent me on a sabbatical. My wife was gunned down and I've not been handling it well." he says. "I'm sorry. How have you not been handling it?" I ask. He looks at me and I say "I have a degree in psychology." I tell him. He looks at me a little shocked. "Why are you here?" He asks. "Figured if I was going to deal with crazy people it should be somewhere that I could drink with them." I tell him laughing. He laughs a little too and I see his slight smile and it's beautiful. "So, tell me how you've not been handling it?" I ask again. "Can't look at my kids. Can't handle being in the house we shared. I don't sleep." he tells me. "I get that. Look, I lost my husband to a robbery. That shit ain't easy to deal with but it gets better. You just have to find your groove. When you're married, you have a double lane, so to speak. You have your lane and they have theirs and they run parallel. When you lose your person, you have to find that medium to handle both lanes. Seeing that leather on your back, tells me that you handled the rough lane while she handled the family lane and now you have to figure out how to handle both lanes." I tell him. "Yeah." he says. "How old are your kids?" I ask. "Ellie is nine and Kenny is six." he tells me. "They are young. They don't fully understand what happened then. As hard as it is, that's a good thing. Means that they aren't going to be as devastated as if they were teens. Who has them now?" I ask. "My mom." he says. "Okay. Have you talked to them?" I ask. He shakes his head no. "Call them. They already see mom isn't there so they need to know that you are still going to be there. That's your first step into finding that medium. You have to take it a step at a time or you'll get overwhelmed. Then that leaves you three steps in the negative." I tell him. "I get it." he says. I hand him another beer and call out last call.

He finishes his beer and we are still talking. "She wanted me out of the club but that was all I knew. My dad founded the club with his best friend. My best friend's dad. It was all I wanted from the time I could walk." he says. "I get it." I say. "I went away for five years and she was left with the kids and the bills alone. I think she resented me for it." he tells me, looking down. "I don't think it was that. I think, like you, she was having a hard time finding that middle lane. She spent five years doing it alone and even though it was an adjustment for you, being home, it was for her too, having you home." I tell him. He looks up at me and says "I didn't think about that." I smirk and tell him "Yeah, I'm pretty insightful sometimes." He laughs a little and I say "You found somewhere to crash tonight?" He shakes his head no. "Help me get these chair on the tables and you can crash at my place." I tell him. He looks at me shocked and I say "Look, you look like you need to relieve some pressure and so could I. Hell, I'll even make you breakfast in the morning." I tell him. He smirks and says "Okay."